Firefly Glen ^________________________^

She suddenly realized she was being rude, staring—squinting, rather—at the stranger. Treepie blinked and dropped her eyes, clearing her throat at the same time the woman uttered a soft greeting. Ever the linguaphile, the accent immediately recaptured her attention; and she was staring again.

Catching herself a second time, Pie had to laugh and say, I’m sorry, I’m being so rude. I’m only staring because… Well, you’re beautiful, she thought, though that seemed like a very forward thing to say when first meeting somebody. You remind me of my sister slash best friend, she explained, smiling around the half-truth as she mentally added, Who happens to be a total babe, like me!

She had to bite her lip against the laughter which threatened to bubble up her throat. You really are a narcissist! Treepie scolded herself inwardly. Even the tooth snagged in her flesh could do nothing to mute the rumble that suddenly rolled through her stomach, a demanding roar that ripped through the dark quiet.

Ope, Pie muttered, admitting, I was just going to check for leftovers. Were you at the wedding? I only made a cameo myself. She paused before adding, I’m Treepie Ostrega.